


Fire Meet Gasoline

by bigasscutie



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigasscutie/pseuds/bigasscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent’s voice dropped serious and he was the one purring into Damen’s sensitive ear now, so quietly, so softly, that it had made the bigger man shiver in pleasant shock. “I might be pretending to be a woman, for your fantasies’ sake, but I’m not your whore. And neither am I your slave, Damianos.”</p><p>(this is probably not what you think it is)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Meet Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically, after reading Kings Rising I had lots of idea. This, I swear, started out to be a funny thing but.. *cough* it's a bit more than that. I'm not really sorry though :D

Damen sat quietly on the edge of the bed, a bed that he had come to share with Laurent for a couple of weeks now, weeks that had felt like one day but also like years. He got rid of his akielon clothes and boots. He rubbed his callous fingers over his forehead, trying to ease the fatigue of the busy day, and looked up at the night sky he could see through the window he was facing. He wondered where Laurent could have been, at this hour, but the headache was quite persistent and so he decided to just lay under the blankets and try to relax. Or at least that is what he was about to do.

 

“Stop.” With his hand gripped around the duvet Damen froze, obeying by old reflex, to the sound of that sweet voice he knew a bit too well. His head started turning around, slowly.

 

“I said, stop.”

 

This time, he did as he was told, as Laurent stepped forward into the room. His voice sounded different, somehow. It felt to Damen as if Laurent were strangely amused but at the same time anxious, unsure and a little terrified about something. The dark-haired man’s lips tilted up into a curious smile, as he kept his gaze fixed to the sky.

 

“Good boy.” Damen stiffened, slowly, as the honeyed words came out of his lover’s mouth.

 

“Laurent, what are you planning? You know as much as I do that I really enjoy bedding you, but I am quite tired today.” Damen heard himself say, convinced his mind was telling Laurent something that his body wasn't feeling at all, not anymore. He damned the blonde’s enchanting voice for it.

 

“Oh, well that’s a real shame then. And here I thought you would be interested.” Damen still didn’t turn.

 

“After all, I did have a surprise for you.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like surprises.” Damen replied.

 

“I never said anything about me.” Laurent took another step, and then another and another, until Damen knew he was definitely near. So near, beside him, that he could feel the heat of his body close next to him, his breath blowing over him as he spoke.

 

“You can turn around now.” Damen rushed, deeper curiosity driving him now, but was stopped again. “Slow.”

 

He took a long, deep breath and slowly, as he was asked to, turned his head. He gasped silently, his fist clutching around the blanket he had been holding in his hand.

 

“Well?” Laurent raised a confident eyebrow, waiting for Damen to express his opinion, but his voice shook and betrayed him. He was nervous, more than Damen had ever seen him, at least since the very first night they had spent together.

 

“Does the king still want to sleep, at a time like this?”

 

Damen’s eyes, which had been acutely focused over Laurent’s body, scrutinizing it up and down, eventually flicked to Laurent’s impatient face. He laughed, almost hysterically, in front of the weird but -oh, so pleasant- view.

 

Laurent, softly illuminated by the moon’s clear light, stood next to him beautiful as always and dressed like anyone but him. He was wearing, instead of the usual complicated Veretian clothes and with such grace that made Damen reconsider all of his life choices, a white long robe that he had only ever seen on akielon women, decorated with blue precious stones and lace. Instead of his usual boots, his elegant feet and thin -but strong- ankles were bare and encircled by leather sandals.

 

When he looked up, Laurent’s long hair was untied and loosened over his collarbones like golden waves, the line of his long neck kissed by the pale light of the night made him look utterly breathtaking. But when wasn’t he? Laurent’s blue eyes were dark against the pallor of his long, feminine eyelashes and his lips were full and parted, waiting.

 

To his utter surprise, Laurent had dressed like a woman. And he looked like one too, which made Damen’s insides twist in both a pleasant but anxious revelation. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows, he hid a smile and spoke.

 

“The king is curious, why is there an unknown charming woman in his chambers?”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. Maybe the King of Vere ordered it.” Laurent played along, his voice still gently shaking, trying not to fall apart in complete embarrassment. Well, it wasn’t Damen’s fault if he had chosen to do this, in fact he really wanted to know _why._

 

“I doubt he would do such a thing, I hear the King is quite the jealous kind.”

 

“You’re the one to talk!” Laurent gasped offended by the false -were they?- rumors, his pretense coming apart. He cleared his throat quickly, trying to mend his mistake, but Damen was quicker.

 

In a split second his strong arm encircled Laurent’s slim waist and, without any kind of effort at all, he lifted Laurent up and threw him on the bed only to end, astride, on top of him. Laurent had made the most amusing, enjoyable sound during the fast gesture and was now lightly panting, red in the face, under Damen’s athletic body. Before saying anything, Damen stripped off his white shirt and placed it aside. Then, he turned his attention back to his new mistress.

 

“I also hear that people say Laurent, the King of Vere, is the only one who can please me.” Damen said, softly, purring into Laurent’s ear as his head bent down and his lips almost met with his marble neck. Almost.

 

“Maybe you can prove them all wrong.” He said, finally, before raising his head up just enough to look into Laurent’s wide eyes, studying his face.

 

“I think,” Laurent began, stroking Damen’s cheek with slender, sure fingers. “that people talk too much.”

 

Damen leant in his hand, feeling the cold touch of it against his warm skin. It burned, like it always did, like ice over fire, and it felt already too much. He didn’t say it, didn’t show it. He was loving this but he still wanted to know what had come over Laurent’s head that night.

 

“Tell me why you are here.” He said.

 

“I saw you looking at me, today, during your usual gardens’ walk with your beloved king.” Laurent said, his voice low and almost… bothered? Damen tilted his head, distancing himself from the other’s hand and narrowed his brown big eyes, looking down at Laurent in question.

 

“You would excuse me, wouldn’t you, if I do not recall this.” Laurent chuckled bitterly, then. He truly looked like a beautiful young girl meant to become a true, powerful woman one day, with all the tricks up her sleeve to convince anyone of everything.

 

“Weren’t you looking towards my ladies friends and I all the time, though? Are you sure?” His voice sounded rougher, more like the one of a man’s now. Damen’s eyes shot to the side as he thought about what the blonde was implying, then he realized.

 

That afternoon, as Laurent had said, they had taken a walk in the gardens. Damen, usually focused on Laurent, had been distracted and he had to admit that. His eyes though, distracted as well as his mind, had drifted unconsciously over a small group of young -stunning, he had to admit- girls. They could have been maidens, slaves, all Damen knew is that he had recognized one of them -one that, he had to give him this, kind of looked like Laurent too for her hair and thin body- and he had smiled. She was just someone he used to see all the time in the palace, why shouldn’t he had silently greeted her from afar? But that wasn’t the problem. The problem, he grinned in satisfaction, was that Laurent had noticed and he was, indeed, jealous.

 

Could he really think that Damen could be interested in the girl? Or maybe that he was simply missing a woman’s body so much to find relief in mundane sights? Damen, still smiling down at Laurent with understanding and biting eyes, shook his head slightly. He decided that, for just once, he could let his puppy love for Laurent aside and have fun. As if Laurent never had that with him.

 

He adjusted himself over Laurent, hot strong thighs pressing into each other as Laurent’s dress had fallen open on the front and sides for the sudden movement from before.

 

“Mh, so what if I was?” A seriously worried flash flared up in Laurent’s blue eyes. “You caught me.” He hoped Laurent was going to forgive him for this. He also controlled himself very hard not to laugh.

 

“But I just couldn’t,” He spoke, one warm hand brushed over Laurent’s tense thigh, teasing, deliberately slowly. “let my eyes wander away from you, not when they had already met such incredible beauty. I couldn’t possibly let you go. I wanted you all for myself-”

 

He saw Laurent roll his eyes, suppressing a low groan as he bit his lip as he stood motionless under him, while Damen’s hand drew his way up his leg, stroking more confidently now. “What is it? You don’t appreciate the words I used to praise you?”

 

“It doesn’t feel like you are praising me, my king.” Laurent said, finally moving a hand just to spread his fingers over Damen’s chest as to feel that he was actually real. “It feels like you are trying to buy me, with useless, boring words.” In a quick motion he pushed hard and shoved Damen away, flipping him over to find their position reversed. Laurent on top and Damen under him, breathing heavily and already half hard from their unusual, bittersweet game alone. Laurent felt it too.

 

Laurent’s voice dropped serious and he was the one purring into Damen’s sensitive ear now, so quietly, so softly, that it had made the bigger man shiver in pleasant shock. “I might be pretending to be a woman, for your fantasies’ sake, but I’m not your whore. And neither am I your slave, Damianos.”

 

Then, without warning, without even looking into Damen’s eyes, Laurent’s hand stroke him one single strong, slow time under the cloth of his light trousers. Damen squeezed his eyes closed, let himself groan shamelessly, contrary to Laurent, and his whole body arched into the man on top of him, letting their chests brush if only for a moment.

 

He looked at Laurent, next, only to find eyes dark as sin leering over him. He felt his breath leave him for a moment, his stinging lungs, his hot body filled with need. Laurent smiled, a sly and amused smile, and removed his hands just to sit up and leave Damen empty from the hips up.

 

Damen took the opportunity and ran his own impatient hands over Laurent’s body, feeling him, as he would have once felt the body of a woman, resting his attention over his chest and gently stroking his hardened nipples under the dress. Laurent looked down at him, licking his lips in restrained desire, and unconsciously rolled his hips. Wrong move.

 

As they made contact, the most intimate parts of their bodies touching each other in sudden fervor, they both let go of the pretending and moaned, loudly. And Damen found out, with great pleasure, that he wasn’t the only aroused one between the two of them. To him, feeling Laurent like that, always felt like the first time and it filled him with eager bliss.

 

“Let me see you.” Damen said, finding his breath again, even though his voice rasped deep through the tense silence of the room. He had his hands grasping Laurent’s white vest, but then Laurent caught his wrists, holding him steady. The blonde shivered, his eyebrows furrowed in honest concern.

 

“I am not one to worry about my looks but..” He hesitated, and he was so out of character for him that Damen had the serious instinct to just hold him all night long instead of satisfy his desire. Anything, to see that god-like, beautiful face at ease. “What if you don’t like what you find under this?” He pointed at the whole dress with one hand, waving it up and down, avoiding Damen’s look.

 

“How could I not like it?”

 

“Maybe you are getting bored.” Damen smiled, gently, at that.

 

He released himself from Laurent’s grip and then intertwined his hands with the other’s, holding them with strength and pure certainty. Laurent’s eyes flew down and met his own.

 

“Laurent, how could I ever?-” He started, then let go of the blonde’s hands and as he half sat up, he began removing his dress, Laurent permitted it, still with doubt.

 

“Ever-” Damen threw the dress on the floor, not caring about its state, and drew his hands over Laurent’s body again, naked skin on naked skin, hungrier. It almost hurt to feel Laurent’s body tense in all the most satisfying ways under his touch. He slid his sure hand around Laurent’s pale neck and brought him down, nearer to him, letting himself lie over the bed and the warm soft sheets comfortably again. Laurent followed, naked except for his sandals, which neither of them could care less about for now, and leant on his elbows to find himself very close to Damen.

 

“..ever get bored of this?” Damen said, before taking Laurent’s head in his hands one last time, sliding his finger in his soft long hair.

 

They didn’t kiss, not yet. Laurent leant his forehead against Damen’s and looked at him. His chest was rising up and down, quick and impatient. Young and still, no matter how many nights they had lay together already, inexperienced for the kind of strong sensations Damen made him feel.

 

Their noses bumped, clumsily, and they breathed heavily into each other. Damen felt his head spin around, dizzy with the thought of the kiss that was waiting for him, but still Laurent didn’t move. His pink lips apart only brushed over Damen’s once, twice. It was like hell, like trying to kiss an innocent devil. One with the features of an angel.

 

Damen’s hands gripped tighter on Laurent’s blonde hair and the other moaned, gasped. He drove Damen crazy. What was he waiting for? Damen leant in, giving up, happy to get over with it but to his surprise, Laurent moved away. He was still closed enough that their breaths could be shared and their noses touch but he wasn’t kissing him. Damen stared at him, lovely panting with urge, and rolled his hips, knowing the effect would have affected _him_ deeply but Laurent too. Laurent groaned, closed his eyes, but didn’t kiss.

 

“Laurent? What is it?” He managed to say as their limbs tangled together tight and Laurent’s hands spread all over his chest, touching everywhere, burning him.

 

“I want to be enough.” Laurent said. The honesty, the unexpected innocence and sincerity of his statement shocked Damen, who shivered and locked his amber eyes with his. He parted his lips, wanting to reply. _Of course, of course you are enough. You will forever be enough._ But he could see, feel the fear in Laurent’s gaze, in the tension of his perfect body. The fear of letting go, the fear of letting his emotions show, he’s still too afraid. Saying that had been extremely difficult, and important. Damen knew it.

 

But Damen was patient, too. He knew he had to give Laurent time, space, and so he didn’t speak, waiting.

 

“Say it again.” Laurent brushed his soft lips against his, as he talked. Damen knew.

 

“Laurent.” He said, exchanging another intangible kiss with him.

 

“Again.” Laurent closed his eyes, letting his head draw to the side. He kissed Damen’s cheeks, his cheekbones, his forehead and his chin. He bit, lightly, into the lobe of his ear sending sparkles of pleasure throughout all Damen’s body, his heart was too loud now. All in between the same single word, name, was repeated. As if he needed to hear it over and over again to feel whole again, to feel real, to feel like he truly deserved love and care. _You are enough, you are enough,_ Damen kept thinking for every time Laurent’s sweet name came out of his wanting lips.

 

“Again.”

 

“Lau-” Damen didn’t finish.

 

Laurent’s lips, eager and wanting and craving crashed over his and finally, they were kissing. Fire met gasoline and they both lit up like a perfect match, burning up together in the passion of the intimate, desperate gesture. It felt dangerous, somehow, but they didn’t care because the pleasure was both pain and fire and they wanted to shine together. Too much was being said with that kiss, Laurent’s need of approval and certainty and Damen’s impossible wish to give Laurent all he needed, wanted.

 

The pretending game from before soon forgotten, Laurent quickly finished undressing himself from his shoes and Damen, before placing his mouth on his once again, coming a little closer, keener on top of Damen. Damen let out a long aching moan, desperate for more touch, but he couldn’t do anything but keep kissing him. It burnt, but it felt like drowning now. Laurent’s wet lips met his and their tongues slid together, Damen wanted to scream.

 

Laurent’s hands were everywhere. On his throat, lightly pressing there, and then on his shoulders and his chest and his bare hips. Damen gripped the sheets under him, when Laurent touched him, stroked him now with much more firmness than before. He flared up, his stomach turned and he leant his head back, breaking the kiss but feeling Laurent’s mouth devoted over his neck, biting here and there and leaving marks that made him his and only his. _I am your slave, I am yours._ Damen thought, or said -he didn’t know, but the truth is that the thought had never left him. Not when they were like this.

 

Laurent’s mouth left his throat and traced a burning path down his over-sensitive body. Damen looked down, but Laurent’s eyes were focused on something else. When Laurent licked him, took him in his mouth Damen let out a single, muffled cry. He needed more, more and more. More of Laurent, more of his lips and his beautiful body. He needed to strike the final match, to burn completely with and inside of him. He needed Laurent like he never needed any other person, lover. Anyone.

 

He let Laurent give him pleasure until it was too much, and he didn’t want it to be too much. Not yet. He, very gently, gripped Laurent’s hair and lifted his head up. The sight destroyed him, Laurent was undone. His pale cheeks were bright pink, his blue eyes never so earnest and his mouth, his lips -oh, his lips.

 

“Laurent, I need to be inside you. Can you let me?” Laurent raised his head up completely and shifted his body to be, again, face to face with Damen.

 

“Damianos.” He said, slowly, tasting the word rolling over his wicked tongue. “You don’t need to ask every time.” Laurent chuckled, which sounded weird but beautiful in the middle of the passionate, tense moment.

 

“I don’t need to, but I want to. Can you?”

 

“Yes.” He came out harsh, low and Laurent kissed Damen again fiercely, as if he was scared he would disappear any moment. _I’m not going anywhere._

 

During the kiss, Damen managed to shift position with him and roll him on his back. Laurent handed him, as the first night, a little glass bottle and Damen prepared him. When he looked down, while Laurent’s body arched and asked for more and more, he saw how hard he was and how frustrating must have been. Damen realized he still hadn’t touched him. He wasn’t going to.

 

“Damen-” Laurent called him back to reality.

 

And then Damen, finally, took him. He could barely breathe as every slow thrust sent shivers and hot sparkles down his body. It felt good, his heart pumping loud in his ears, as it always felt. It felt like walking through heaven after hundreds of years in hell. And Damen knew it was the same for Laurent, he could see it, feel it with every movement of his body. Every moan, every word he couldn’t understand -not now- felt like a praising and grateful song. Damen loved Laurent for it, he loved him for many things.

 

Laurent, spread and naked under him, tightened his hands against Damen’s hair and quickened up their pace. He kissed him again, and again and again until Damen remembered and started to stroke him, too. After that, their climax hit quick and hot. Their sweaty foreheads clamped together, their breaths nonexistent for a long infinite minute, and the fire inside them turned into smoke, ash, that rested in the air as if something inexplicably powerful and magical had just happened.

 

Damen withdrew and lay against him, still panting, with his eyes closed. He felt one hand stroke his cheek, almost absently. He took Laurent’s palm in his hand and kissed it, once, firmly. He opened his eyes and turned his head.

 

Laurent was looking at him, smiling. The sight always a bit too much, Damen forced himself to focus on what he had wanted to say.

 

“I don’t need you to be anyone else. I don’t need nor do I want a woman. I don’t want any other man, either. I need my Laurent and my Laurent only. I _want_ my King, because I need to tell him something.”

 

Laurent’s smile widened, his eyes flickering with peaceful delight. “Tell him what?” He asked.

 

“He needs, he truly needs to know, that I love him.” Damen said, and grinned back. Laurent only took his hand, and gripped tight.


End file.
